I vomit every day

I vomit every day, usually in the evening just after supper.

I throw up everything I’ve eaten, an assortment of foodstuffs, but also liquid, sometimes several pints of water tea and coffee, and beer if I’ve had any. Sometimes I deliberately eat a colourful array of foods to achieve a rainbow vomit. It’s very pretty.

The doctors have been confounded, I’m a man of medical mystery they tell me. I’ve had all sorts of tests; for cancer, thyroid, blood tests, they’ve even scanned my brain, but they’ve found nothing. They now say it’s psychosomatic, brought on by stress.

However, I think it’s just a metaphor, my body casting cryptic criticism on the world. I am throwing up all the bad in the world around me: unhelpful work colleagues, bureaucratic officials, rude and selfish commuters, Liberal Democrats.

I must retain some food, as I’m not dead yet and it’s been happening for well over a year. I’ve not even lost any weight. My doctor says I need to cut down.

I remain hopeful that I’ll get better eventually. Even the most powerful metaphor can’t last forever.

Maybe one day they’ll find out what’s wrong with me. They could christen the condition Oblong Disease, then people would think of me every time they throw up. I think I’d like that.